Vignettes of the Masked Tuxedo
by CreativeSprite7117
Summary: We all know the story of Sailor Moon from Usagi's perspective. But what about Tuxedo Mask's? This story is an attempt to explain things about Mamoru Chiba that we have come to know and love without really knowing why they are so. Set in the universe of the classic anime.
1. Vignette 1 - History of the Tuxedo

Vignette 1: History of the Tuxedo

 _Lightning prickled his skin. He gripped the windowsill, and then began to sink._

" _Not this again," he groaned, falling to his knees._

 _He tried to fight it—tried to get up. When he rose to his feet, it felt like he was spiraling upward. He grabbed blindly at the blue curtain to steady himself._

 _His hand parted the curtain. A single sweat drop glistened down his temple in the moonlight that poured through the window. Familiar yet unexplainable emotions arose: urgency, lust, a need to protect_ her _at all costs. He steadied himself there, breathing heavily, eyes darting furiously over the suburban landscape. He clutched his head and braced himself for the pleasurable anguish he knew would soon sweep his body; a strange orgasm that prompted his transformation into a masked caper of the night._

 _He staggered to his closet and removed the suit hastily from its hanger. He had the vague, unfinished thought "What am I-?" before his remaining words were swallowed into a sea of forgetfulness. A new man stood there, a strange smile twisting his lips. In tails and top hat now, he glided in front of his mirror. No confusion, no pain, but the fire in his stomach had reached a fever pitch. He looked into his own piercing blue eyes. "What am I?" he asked with a grin. He pulled gently at the drawer of the table that the mirror was perched upon and gently removed a slender white mask. As he donned the mask, he whispered to himself the only name he answered to. "I am Tuxedo Mask!"_

Mamoru's two birthday presents to himself were unusual for an eighteen- year-old. The first he was ambling into now. He stepped lightly through the humid hallway of his new, sleek, furnished apartment that his generous inheritance afforded him. His right index finger slid over the bare wall, searching for the light switch. _There_. He flicked it on and took in the surroundings. Nice. New. Yet modest. The location itself was flashy enough, in the heart of Tokyo. No need to be flashy now. There was a time and place for that.

As he brought his right hand to his side, his left hand clutched a small cardboard box which contained his only possessions. The clothes he had been wearing in foster care never really belonged to him anyway. He refused to bring those with him, knowing he could start buying his own things now. Besides a couple of undershirts and boxers he had picked up on the way in, the only thing he had in the box was something Yua, his foster mother, a professional ballroom dancer, had purchased for him: a full tuxedo, including a top hat, cane, gloves, and patent leather shoes.

He suddenly remembered he had left the cane inside his second present to himself: the new red convertible, now resting in the parking garage. _I'll get it out tomorrow_ , he thought.

He stepped into his room, also moderately sized like the rest of the apartment. Slowly, he placed the box at the foot of the closet, and then began to hang the tuxedo up. He did it robotically, eyes slightly unfocused as he remembered the details of how he had acquired it…

"You look lovely!" Yua had just finished brushing the dust off Mamoru's shoulders. She stood behind him as they both examined Mamoru's dressed-to-the-nines get-up in the tall oak looking glass. Natural rouge bloomed on Mamoru's cheeks. He briefly made eye contact with his foster mother in the mirror before letting his eyes drift over various parts of the suit: the notch lapel encrusted with gold buttons, the gleaming white waistcoat, the crisp alabaster tie.

"Thank you, Yua," Mamoru managed.

"Don't be so shy!" Yua beamed. "What were all the practice dances at the academy for if not for a moment to shine? And there's no better way to wish you well than with a _real_ ball, with _proper_ attire."

"I'm not shy," Mamoru insisted. "I'm just… not used to dressing up to go and dance. As you know."

She didn't respond; instead, she continued to inspect him. She took a breath in preparation to speak. She paused again, and then finally breathed, "Mamoru, thank you for being a son to me." He saw tears welling in her eyes.

"Yua, don't cry. C'mon. Let's go have fun."

"Wait." Yua ran to her closet and pulled a mask and a top hat out of a smooth circular storage box. She ruffled his bangs and plopped the top hat roughly on his head, and he chuckled. To soften her abruptness, she gently handed him the mask. He held it out in front of himself, caressing the silky, milky white fabric. "You can't forget these."

"It's a masquerade?" His expression remained calm, but the darkening of his flushed cheeks betrayed his emotions.

"It'll be fun! Don't worry. Just be yourself."

He smiled for her, but on the car ride over to the dance, when he could look out the window without having to speak or show his face to her, he thought _If only I knew who that was._

It was a winter masquerade, held in a grand ballroom on the seventy-eighth floor of the Imperial Hotel. Everyone from the dance academy was there, and all of their guests. If you were to force your eyes to blur, you would see sparkles of red, silver, and gold all mixed together from the candelabras, the tinsel and garland, and the gowns and suits of the well-dressed men and women there. Yua was a dot of blue in the sea of red dresses, while Mamoru was the only one in a tuxedo. The tide of conversation pulled her toward the opposite side of the room. She waved at him as she went, and he nodded at her in understanding. There were several oversized, gaudy Christmas trees lining the wall, towering over the guests, trapping them there. Mamoru felt dizzy, as if he were inside a snow globe that had just been shaken.

The night went on. He had just finished dancing with his eleventh partner. For the first time, this one caught his attention. She was short and had tousled, long blonde hair down to her knees. And she was very pretty. She reminded him of someone he had never met. When the song ended and they parted ways, he felt the hole in his heart become deeper.

Wanting to escape the unpleasant feeling, he decided to step out onto the balcony for fresh air. Silence, a gust of wind, and a sheet of snow greeted him. He welcomed them, the chill suddenly biting away at the heat he had generated from the dancing, his long garments, and the stuffy room. Then, he suddenly felt a twinge of panic in his stomach. He had totally lost track of the time and hadn't seen Yua in a while. He spun around and ran to the door that led back into the ballroom. He peered deeply into the crowd, but there was no blue dot.

The ache gripped him tighter. He turned around to face the balcony ledge again. Without fully understanding why, he briskly approached the edge and peered over it.

He found the blue dot. But it was tiny, crumpled, with red stippling, seventy-eight floors below him on the pavement. Cars encircled the body. Lights danced red and blue. His hearing faded strangely as the sounds of sirens came into full volume.

Mamoru blinked at the tuxedo. Why keep it? Why keep something that would remind you of your foster mother's suicide?

 _I know it wasn't my fault… she was clinically depressed_. Mamoru had no idea Yua was struggling so much. He had known her for ten years. She had hidden her suffering well.

 _Why does everyone I love die? I can't let loved ones die anymore. How? How can I stop it?_

Everything had been unpacked. Except, of course, the cane in the convertible. As he got ready to throw the box in the corner of his room, he stopped.

Sitting at the bottom of the box, nearly forgotten, was the white mask.


	2. Vignette 2 - The Masked Tuxedo

Vignette 2: The Masked Tuxedo's Debut

 _Author's note: Occasionally, I have to leverage actual scenes and dialogue from the classic anime for chronological context. The dialogue was taken from the Viz Media dub. I do not claim to be the writer of the dialogue from the classic anime._

The memory of the blue dot folded in on itself, swirling around with distant glass shards and swerving roads and the sight of two bodies dangling in their seatbelts that haunted his dreams. He needed something to wash the crumpled blue dot with red speckles out of his mind. Not only because of how horrifying it had been, but also because it reminded him of how truly alone and abandoned he really was.

At first, Mamoru began shoving away the painful memories with possessions. Yes, the apartment was furnished, but it had no color or vibrancy or personal taste. He was officially an adult now, living on his own—it was time to make his world feel that way. Slowly but surely, his apartment began to fill with his own things: a large potted palm tree, a small cactus plant, art books for the coffee table, paintings and landscapes both abstract and realistic that he had picked up at art galleries he wandered into (a landscape of New York City, a crescent moon over a desert). His apartment was only a studio, so he couldn't go too crazy. His most recent purchase was a vase full of red roses. Yua always had a vase stocked with fresh roses, so in her honor, he kept the tradition alive and purchased one of his own.

Mamoru's next materialistic venture was not just for the purposes of distraction. They were rooted in practical reasoning: he needed to stock up on some clothes and textbooks; clothes so that he could have a proper wardrobe of his own, and textbooks so that he could get a head start on the curriculum for his classes that would commence in a couple months at Temple University.

He wandered the streets of the Azabu-Juban district, not exactly sure what he was looking for. There were several boutiques he could choose from. A rather regal looking establishment—a men's formalwear boutique—caught his interest. He wandered inside.

A short, elderly man with small spectacles peered at him over the counter. "Good afternoon! What might I help you with today?"

Mamoru glanced around at the vast collection blazers, pleated pants, belts, and collared shirts. "Something for school."

"Ah, so, something for college? Not in high school anymore, I see. No more school uniforms for you."

The shopkeeper had a point; this was the first time Mamoru had ventured to dress himself, not only because he had worn solely school uniforms, but also because everything had always been pre-selected for him. Yua never explicitly mentioned it, but the photos around her house, as well as the abandoned bedroom that Mamoru had slept in for the past ten years, filled with boxes of boys clothes and trinkets, gave it away. Yua had had a son, a son who had likely reached somewhere around Mamoru's current age before mysteriously passing away. Mamoru suspected that it happened right before he came to live with Yua around the age of eight.

"That's right. Got any recommendations?" Mamoru felt warmth in his chest speaking with the shopkeeper. Male figures were few and far between in his life, and perhaps this elderly man could be a temporary male bastion of advice and care.

"Yes! I can make you look dashing… let's see…"

Mamoru tried on a black turtleneck sweater, olive green blazer, and a pair of pleated lilac pants at the man's recommendation. He turned to the man for advice. "Well? How do I look?" As one who had worn hand-me-downs all his life, he had no basis to judge if something were fashionable or not.

"Splendid, my boy! The women will swoon for you."

"Well… that's not exactly my intention, but… I'll take it!"

The shopkeeper convinced him to wear the outfit on his way out, and to grab a few other pairs of pants and button-up shirts. He did, grabbing them hastily while asking the man what his name was.

"Satoru Fujita, at your service." The man bowed.

"Mamoru Chiba." They smiled at one another and shook hands. Mamoru had a feeling he would be back, as he had cash to burn.

Mamoru dreaded going to bed that night, afraid of the memories of his parents' deaths, of Yua, of being at the ball and not being able to find her… until it was too late. But tonight was different. From afar, Yua, dressed in blue, held out her hand, calling to him, asking him to dance. He neared her, and she transformed into a maiden bathed in silver light, imploring him to get something called "the silver crystal" in a sweet, high voice that made his skin tingle.

He woke up in the sweat that normally drenched him from his nightmares, even though this time he felt perplexed rather than anxious.

Before long, he came to expect that dream, but he still didn't understand what it meant.

After a few weeks, the dreams of the maiden begging him to find the crystal tormented him almost as much as his dreams of dead loved ones. He sat on the edge of his bed and pleaded with God to stop. "I can't take this anymore," he muttered, face buried in his hands. "I don't understand. Why are you doing this to me? What is the silver crystal? Why should I get it?"

"God works in mysterious ways," said a voice.

Mamoru sprung up from the side of the bed. "Who's there?" he gasped.

"No one. Just you." The voice was coming from the mirror perched on the nightstand. Mamoru, cautious, approached the mirror, only to find a masked version of himself, donned in the tuxedo from the winter masquerade, staring back at him. "Sometimes, you just follow the instructions, without fully understanding why… and it leads you to where you need to go. It's called trust."

"Why should I trust?" Mamoru said through clenched teeth, his hands gripping the nightstand, trembling, threatening to overturn it. "What do I have to trust? I trusted I would have a normal life and God took that away by killing my parents and taking my memories! Then, just when I thought things were okay, he took someone else from me! I was helpless to stop it. I couldn't protect anyone!"

"Your true identity and purpose extends to before you were even born."

"What?" Mamoru looked up, but only saw himself in the mirror. The masked caper had vanished.

Two weeks later, he was back in Satoru's shop.

"Satoru?" He stormed in, eyes scanning the place for the old man, but he was nowhere to be found. "Satoru?" he repeated.

"One moment please!" he heard a voice echo at him from the back of the shop. The old man appeared, a needle and thread in his hand. "Oh, Mamoru! I was just hemming a pair of pants. How can I help you today?"

"I have a strange request. Do you have any capes?"

Satoru ambled toward him and scratched his head. "Capes, huh? No, my boy, I'm afraid I don't."

Mamoru suspected as much. "Ah. Okay. Well, thanks, Satoru." Mamoru turned on his heel and waved good-bye.

"Now just hold on, my boy," Satoru said. Mamoru stopped at the door and turned to face him. "I'm a tailor, you know. I could make it for you if you tell me the kind of fabric you want, the colors, and of course, if I take some measurements."

"How soon could you have it ready?" Mamoru asked.

"Well, I have a few other pieces I'm doing… Let's see… by the end of week. How does that sound?"

Mamoru felt as though he were watching himself from a distance as he ordered the man to sew a cape from the blackest silk he possessed, line it with red silk as dark and brilliant as a rose, and that it should fasten to the wearer's shirt with buttons that gleamed an iridescent gold.

Thankfully, Satoru, being the gentleman that he was, didn't ask any questions. Because, truthfully, Mamoru didn't have the slightest idea _why_ he needed the tailor to make him a custom cape.

Mamoru didn't know much about crystals, so he thought he would pay a visit to Tokyo's premium jewelry store and look around, to see if he would be able to identify this "silver crystal" that the maiden kept ordering him to get. Could it really be just any crystal that gleamed silver that you could find at a jewelry store? He hesitated before exiting his apartment, his hand resting on the doorknob. _What am I doing? Am I really about to go and buy a crystal just to appease a dream?_ He shook away the feeling. _Who knows? Maybe, if I buy this, the dreams will stop._ "I'll humor you," he said aloud, addressing the silver maiden from his dreams. He felt a small pang of urgency in his abdomen. At the beckon of his gut, he pushed aside the doubts about what he was about to do. Grabbing a pair of newly purchased black Ray Bans on his way out, Mamoru made his way to OSA-P to see if he could find the gem.

He had finally hit the block the store was located on, and even saw the sign for OSA-P just a few feet away when suddenly he felt a piece of trash bounce onto his head.

He stopped and immediately saw the culprit a stone's throw away: a short school girl (he could tell by the uniform that she went to Azabu-Juban junior high) with tousled, long blonde hair down to her ankles, tied up into two large buns on either side of her parted hair. Her eyes were so wide in the apparent horror of her crime that they grazed her ruffled blonde bangs.

"Watch where you're throwing things, bun head," he said sternly. He smoothed the paper out and examined it. It was a math test with a _very_ poor test score on it. "30 percent?" He couldn't help saying it aloud; he had never seen or heard tell of a grade that low in his life, especially since he always received high marks. He addressed the girl directly. "Looks to me like you better study harder next time, bun head."

"Hmph! Well, that's none of your business!" The girl snatched the paper out of his hand, blew him a raspberry, and stormed off.

Unperturbed, Mamoru removed his sunglasses and narrowed his eyes at the shop front. _So… this is it._

Mamoru returned home with nothing. Sighing, he collapsed onto his bed. "I knew that was stupid." He couldn't bring himself to go inside the shop. It was all too weird. He shut his eyes, hoping he could at least catch a nap without any dream disturbances.

When night fell, Tuxedo Mask leapt from building to building, his heart racing. "This will certainly get me there faster." He grinned, feeling the blue Tokyo night air billow through his cape. "I must find the silver crystal! It may be inside!"

He landed on the top of the OSA-P shop like a cat, and then arched upward, scanning the surroundings. No one was around; only the crescent moon lit his way. He propelled himself onto the side of the building and perched onto the shop's large windowsill. "This will be a piece of cake."

But when he gazed inside, he saw quite an alarming scene: a young woman with long blonde hair, white gloves, a sailor suit, and red boots was running from a slew of patrons, who moved like zombies toward her and threatened her violently. They attempted to bring her to the ground. One even threw a broken bottle at her. She was jammed up against the side of a long white column, and was clearly injured. He wasn't sure how badly. He slowly opened the window and slinked inside, still observing from the windowsill. He could barely make out a small voice from behind the column yell, "What do you think you're doing, Sailor Moon? You have to fight back! You've got to attack and defeat that monster!" He squinted but it was too dark and distant to make out who was giving her directives.

The young girl, apparently called "Sailor Moon," sniffled back, "I can't. I don't want to fight. I'm too scared. How did I get myself into this? I want to go home now!" A terrifying witch in a black gown aimed a claw with razor-sharp nails straight at the young woman's neck.

His heart beat wildly in his chest. An irresistible combination of lust and the need to protect this girl swelled until it overpowered his senses. _Do something! Help her!_

From beneath his cape, he pulled out a deadly rose and flung it like a dart from his gloved hand. It embedded itself like a sword into the marble floor. "Who are you?" the witch growled, turning her head completely around to address him.

"I am known as Tuxedo Mask," he declared boldly. "Sailor Moon, you have to remember that crying isn't going to solve any of your problems."

"Yeah, maybe not, but I can't help it." He watched as her tears propelled an avalanche of bodies to hit the ground. Then, the voice behind the column asked Sailor Moon to perform some kind of attack. The girl removed her bejeweled tiara and threw it like a boomerang at the witch, who disintegrated in mid-air.

"Well done, Sailor Moon. I won't soon forget what happened here tonight." His cloak billowed in front of his face and he leapt with the wind from the window into the cool night.

The grin never left his face as he leapt back to the apartment of one Mamoru Chiba.

Mamoru woke up to the first morning's light. He was pleasantly shocked that there was not a trace of sweat on his body or sheets. He then went over the details of the dream he had the night before: he dreamed that he was stalking the night in a cape and tuxedo, and had intervened in a fight between a sailor girl and a monster. _Strange_ , he mused, _but definitely an improvement over nightmares._ But even more surprising than the contents of the dream was the fact that, for the first time in a long, long while, Mamoru felt happy.


	3. Vignette 3 - Déjà Vu

Vignette 3: Déjà Vu

 _Author's note: Occasionally, I have to leverage actual scenes and dialogue from the classic anime for chronological context. The dialogue was taken from the Viz Media dub. I do not claim to be the writer of the dialogue from the classic anime._

Mamoru awoke with a mist of memory floating in and out of his consciousness. He had had a similar dream before. Every now and then he would dream about a girl named "Sailor Moon" and a man in a cape named "Tuxedo Mask." They would flit about, fighting strange beings, and many times the "Tuxedo Mask" would save the girl from danger. As Mamoru tried to gather more details, the vague dream was abruptly pushed aside by memories of a much clearer one; the recurring dream of the mysterious maiden who turned to face him and called out with a strange sense of longing in her voice, "The silver crystal… find the legendary silver crystal!"

He laid there for a moment, blinking and clutching his head. "Uhh… that dream… again. Will it ever stop?"

As usual, he arose and ignored it.

 _But_ he couldn't ignore a girl he kept running into. He didn't even know her name, so he called her "Bun Head" instead.

It all started with that stupid (literally) test that she had inadvertently threw in his face. Then, she did it again… with a freaking _shoe_. Another time, he passed by her when he was heading home from one of the formals held though his dance fraternity at Temple U, stuffing her face with pork buns. He noticed her before she noticed him. He couldn't help himself.

"What do we have here?" he sneered. "Now, would you call that cannibalism, a Bun Head eating a pork bun?"

Her eyes gleamed in the sunlight as they widened. Her lips pursed, her cheeks bloomed, and she snapped, "Just leave me alone! Why do you care what I eat anyway?"

"If you keep eating like that, you might just turn into a pork bun."

"Oh, shut up!" She chucked one of the buns right at him.

He walked away, new snack in hand, and taunted her once more. "What a catch! Thanks for this! Plus it means one less for you to eat, Bun Head!"

The more and more he ran into her, the more he seemed to look forward to their encounters. He enjoyed walking the Tokyo streets; it cleared his head and helped him sleep a little better at night. But now, on his usual walks, he found himself hoping he would run into her.

The next time he saw her, she was running away from something. It looked like she had been crying. As she ran, he thought, _Is she running toward me?_ Even if it weren't so, he pretended, just for a moment, that she was.

"Hey," he said, smiling. She gasped, and ran to the side of a building to lean against it.

He approached her, calmly. They bickered for a moment about a local star search contest that was being held. After a couple of exchanges, she cut the conversation short and pushed him away. That surprised him a bit, but the unexpected joy he felt from seeing her made up for it, and he smiled in her wake. _Something about her_.

Another time, he could have sworn she was talking to the little black cat that he kept seeing around her. He had to tease her about it ( _how merciless of me_ , he thought), but she ran away before they could say much more to each other. She was getting more and more annoyed, he could tell, the more he sneaked up on her.

Then, he saw her at the amusement park he should _not_ have gone to. When he saw the place on his usual route, it seemed like a nice detour to walk around in there instead of on the sidewalk. Before he knew it, he was straddling one of those little kiddie trains. And then, of course, she bumped into him when the train came to an abrupt halt. But this time, the Bun Head was armed and dangerous. She had grown accustomed to his snake tongue and had developed one of her own. She mercilessly teased him for riding the kiddie train. Mamoru was so taken aback, his eyes and shoulders sank in shame.

That night, in the middle of studying, he closed his eyes and imagined her face from all of their previous encounters. It was always that same look: her eyes would bug out of her head as she would give him some exasperated explanation about how he was a horrible person. He felt a devilish sense of pleasure wash over him at his reimaginings. _God, I love pushing her buttons_ , he thought. Then, he would retort with some witty comeback, hoping she would take the bait… just so… that they would keep talking? He shook his head, realizing how silly he had been acting. _She's just some kid. What am I doing?_ He regained his focus on his textbook.

A week later en route to Temple U, he felt a stabbing pain on his skull. He turned. The Bun Head was sauntering toward him. She had somehow, miraculously, managed to hit him with her shoe… _again_.

 _Here we go again, the usual song and dance_ , he thought.

But something was different this time; the Bun Head was babbling about some guy who "likes me just the way I am."

A brick dropped into the pit of his stomach and he heard himself sound defensive: "Are you serious? That guy must be a total loser." A couple other insults slipped out of his mouth and before he knew it, the Bun Head was on her knees, sobbing. He ran away, total chickenshit.

 _Damn. She's good. First she powned me at the amusement park… now, tears?_

One night when he was going for a jog, he saved her cat from certain death. As he checked the animal for any collateral damage, the Bun Head appeared out of nowhere.

"Hey! Aaaaaagggh! What are you doing to Luna?!" the Bun Head cried.

"You need to take better care of your cat," Mamoru stated matter-of-factly.

 _Boom_. There she went. It was like watching a firecracker explode. He could barely understand the jibberish coming out of her mouth; something about how special her cat was and ya-da-ya-da-ya-da. He had stopped listening to her rant after a few syllables. Meanwhile, her friends told her to stop over-reacting. They called her "Usagi."

Shortly after that, one of her friends cornered him and asked him for coffee, then to go out in a boat on a nearby lake. She seemed really adamant; he didn't have the heart to say no. Besides, in between his studies, his walks, and his shit sleep, he didn't have much else to do, so he didn't mind a little diversion.

The dreams continued, as well as his interactions with "Usagi." He had been picking up new hobbies, namely spending some coins at the arcade where his colleague Motoki worked. He recently found out that Usagi and her friends frequented the arcade. One afternoon he couldn't help overhearing her chatting with Motoki, sulking about not being selected to be in a photo-shoot.

He addressed her suddenly, not caring how rude it might have seemed, telling her she had neither the brains nor beauty required of top models. It was the first time he had called her by her name. "…Usagi…" He felt a sweet humming at the back of his throat as his mouth and vocal chords formed the sound of her name. The sweetness of the feeling was masked to all by his biting remarks. She stormed out of the arcade. He had done it again.

"Mamoru, she really is a good person," Motoki said. "You shouldn't treat her like she's just a dumb little girl, you know?"

"Well, maybe you're right," Mamoru sighed. "But whenever we talk, it just seems to turn into an argument. What can I say? I guess that she and I weren't meant for each other."

One night, he woke up with the word "Serenity" on his lips. He blinked and, through the blur, saw a glowing star on his nightstand. He sat up to examine it more closely. It was lightweight and brilliant, and he wondered if it was made of pure gold. He noted the faint ticking, and a crescent moon that danced 'round and 'round a red gem in the center.

"How did I… get this?"

The dreams of the masked caper became increasingly vivid. He lied there, gazing at the star locket in his hands, afraid of what he might do if he closed his eyes.


	4. Vignette 4 - Conscious

Vignette 4: Conscious

 _Author's note: Occasionally, I have to leverage actual scenes and dialogue from the classic anime for chronological context. The dialogue was taken from the Viz Media dub. I do not claim to be the writer of the dialogue from the classic anime._

The dream bubbles burst open across his consciousness in waves. The malleable, viscous vagaries swirled about until, like spun glass, they solidified into hard, cold reality. Mamoru finally realized that almost all of the dreams he had were _real_. That he had been on rooftops and elevator shafts and other strange, _strange_ places that a man wouldn't normally find himself. That had _done_ even stranger things. He stared in awe at the tuxedo hanging in his closet. It was no longer just a relic of a masquerade gone wrong, but a symbol of something greater than him.

Mamoru stared at his reflection in the mirror. "Do I have multiple personality disorder? But what does that mean when you suddenly have recognition of your split personality?" Amid the sea of panic, he felt a calm peaceful center. "But… this is a clue. There's a reason I've been doing this. A reason I'm protecting her." He cast his eyes away from the mirror. "I ignored the dream. So, my subconscious made Tuxedo Mask in order to carry out the princess's wishes. So, if Tuxedo Mask wants the crystal… and I'm Tuxedo Mask… then, I, Mamoru Chiba, must want the crystal, too." Mamoru pulled open the drawer of the table where his mirror was perched. He stared at an orange crystal that gleamed like the setting sun. Hastily, he shut the drawer. The orange crystal clattered like a loose tooth.

He opened the sliding glass door to his balcony to stand in the fading daylight. "All these pieces… Tuxedo Mask… the princess… the watch." He reached into his pocket and his blood ran cold. "The watch! Where is it? I had it with me… before… when did I lose it?" He shook his head. "God… are you helping me? Are you dropping clues for me? The crystal must be the key to who I really am. But not just me… not just six-year-old Mamoru. Who I was _before_ … like… in a past life?" He turned away from the balcony and went back inside, now pacing in front of his sofa. "It's strange, but… my past does feel bigger than me. A bigger chunk of history than who I was before the car crash." He sat on his couch and leaned back. "I mean… I can't be crazy. There _is_ something to this. I mean, I turned into a superhero, for God's sake. I saved _her_ … also, a superhero… many times. From something… supernatural. If that's real, then who's to say that past lives can't be real?" He bowed his head into his hands. "I know what I have to do. I, Mamoru, must also look for the crystal, not just Tuxedo Mask." He stood up, and walked back over to the mirror. He stared at his reflection and didn't see Tuxedo Mask looking back at him. Still, he addressed himself. "Tuxedo Mask, our objectives are aligned at last."

This was it. One of his first conscious battles as Tuxedo Mask. No more dreams. This was a reality. He embraced his newfound consciousness. He was following a bigger plan, one he felt he was destined to fulfill. But he knew it involved some self-direction, as well. After all, the rainbow crystals weren't just going to fall into his lap. Zoisite possessed one that gleamed scarlet. He felt he could easily get one ball back into his court, as it were. But it complicated the matter greatly that one of Sailor Moon's fellow guardians had obtained a yellow one since his awakening.

The night wind cut into skin, made harsher by being 100 stories above the ground. He was standing on a narrow steel beam, staring Zoisite down. They lunged at each other, both missed, and traded places. _I might as well check this off my bucket list of unusual places to fight._

"Hand over the rainbow crystal, Zoisite," the masked tuxedo demanded, outstretching his hand.

"Never!" Zoisite rasped. Energy flew from his hand, and Tuxedo Mask braced himself against it. His cape concealed him as a commotion erupted and the energy surrounding him intensified. "Moon Tiara Action!" he heard a girl cry, and then the flurry of energy ceased instantly.

He released his cape and saw the sailor-suited warrior standing before him. "Sailor Moon," he blurted out, startled. His first fight as an awakened man, and _she_ had saved _him_? Wasn't it supposed to be the other way around? All his new memories told him that was usually the case.

In a frenzy of cherry blossom petals, Zoisite vanished.

"Are you okay?" Sailor Moon asked. He detected a note of affection in her voice. In that moment, he didn't mind it.

He changed his tone to match hers, dropping his defenses. "Tonight, it's you who saved me," he said appreciatively.

She came toward him, and suddenly a large golden star fell from her garments onto the steel beam. It popped open like a clamshell and began to play a sleepy, tinkering melody. They both reached down for it, and stopped when their hands almost touched.

"I suppose that this pendant is yours, isn't it?"

His mind raced back to the picture that a famous Japanese painter had shown him earlier that afternoon. The Bun Head—no, Usagi—was there, too. They all discussed the picture. Something about it stirred his heart. In it, a young woman gave a young man a trinket similar to this one. And then, without understanding why, he saw the princess again from his dreams (the one dream that hadn't quite burst yet. He wasn't sure if it ever would, but he hoped it was real; hoped that the princess wasn't just some metaphor, but maybe was a real person, a part of his past).

"Princess" escaped his lips.

Sailor Moon's eyes widened. "What? Does that mean you know the princess? We've actually been looking for her for quite a while now."

"I… don't know where she is." He spared the details of his dreams. But knowing Sailor Moon's plans gave him further hope about the princess being real. "But since your mission is to locate her, you should hold onto this." He gently placed the star trinket back in her gloved hand.

Then, the heroine asked, sweetly, if he would return the one crystal he had in his possession. She seemed so much younger then, like a child, the way that she asked.

Tuxedo Mask turned icy. "No," he said firmly, and explained that they were of deep importance to him, and that he would not hesitate to take any of hers if he had the chance.

She was outraged, and accused him of being their enemy, which he did not deny when it came to this matter. Feeling ruffled, Tuxedo Mask left in a flurry, cape billowing behind him as he dismounted from the steel perch.


	5. Vignette 5 - Reflections

Vignette 5: Reflections

 _Author's note: Occasionally, I have to leverage actual scenes and dialogue from the classic anime for chronological context. The dialogue was taken from the Viz Media dub. I do not claim to be the writer of the dialogue from the classic anime._

He didn't know why he was telling her this.

Mamoru found himself telling Usagi that he wanted to find the crystal to recover his memories. Usagi. Bun Head. _Bun Head_. Why would she care?

He couldn't help it. She radiated warmth and kindness that made him want to open up to her. She made him feel safe… whole… complete.

The elevator, along with doubts about his journey, crept higher to the top of the Starlight Tower. She had followed him. He hadn't intended for her to come, but she was swept into this mess along with him. He wanted to stare at her, but resisted. He pretended to be interested in what was outside the elevator window, but her image was burned into his mind's eye. He didn't realize it was about to become a scar.

However, there was a more serious type of scar he needed to avoid, and fast. The type of scar provided by third degree burns. The elevator came to an abrupt, noisy halt. Seconds later, he and Usagi were staring into a spiral of fire, careening down upon them, and he was helpless to stop it.

When he saw her transform, all he could think was _So… it's not just Sailor Moon I'm protecting… It's you… Usagi._

She performed a gigantic leap and hoisted the both of them out of the pit of fire. The dust cleared to reveal Zoisite, walking proudly away from an obvious double kill. However, Sailor Moon addressed him fiercely, and he stopped in his tracks. Mamoru watched in a daze. His thoughts were louder than the events unfolding around them: The girl that he always wanted to bump into by day was the very same heroine he wanted to protect by night. Split identities would merge for the both of them soon enough. However, Usagi loathed him but worshipped Tuxedo Mask. He wasn't sure how she was going to take the news he had for her…

Zoisite stole his thunder slightly by announcing the presence of "Tuxedo Mask" in front of a puzzled Sailor Moon. She turned to stare at Mamoru in disbelief. He smirked at her, pulled a rose out of the interior pocket of his olive-colored blazer, and transformed into the masked tuxedo.

He relished the stunned look that came over her face. He could see behind her stunning blue eyes that she was performing a complex calculation: the act of reconciling two different men that she knew into the same person. Unlike the dismal math test that had introduced them, he hoped that this was a test she could pass.

He smiled softly at her. As both Mamoru and Tuxedo Mask, he assured her, "Sailor Moon, I _will_ protect you."

Scarlet filled her cheeks. She responded in a tone he might only hear in the bedroom from a lover. "Oh," she sighed. "Tuxedo Mask." Her eyes brimmed with tears.

Resolutely, he turned to face Zoisite and claim the rainbow crystals once and for all. All the while, he never stopped to question—why? Why am I protecting her? It was imperative. An instinct. Maybe the crystals that he stepped forward to claim would be able to explain the feeling. All he knew was that he could not let her get hurt again. Not like last time. Every time his shoulder seared with pain, he was reminded of his failure. No, his persistent question wasn't _Why protect her?_ It was _Why am I so weak?_

He felt drained, standing there, facing Zoisite across the chamber. The opportunity for the most effective medical treatment had passed and his shoulder was now infected, he was certain. Energy drained out of his body, but he put on a face like he was ready; strong; confident.

It was in that exact moment that he felt his body tear apart as a sharp spike penetrated his back.

His knees buckled. He reeled backward, paralyzed, and smacked the cruel stone floor of the observation deck. His brain rattled in his skull as it caught his fall. He felt her sweet arms hoist him slightly upright. Her face blurred before him. "Are you all right, Sailor Moon?" he managed. She nodded, sniffling. "Stop looking like you're about to cry," he panted. "I'm so glad that you're safe."

Sweet darkness stole his senses.

He felt like he had been holding his breath for a long, long time and had finally come up for air. The surface of the turbulent ocean he had been living inside broke and he understood everything. He already knew that the rainbow crystals had merged to form the silver crystal. And, as he had hoped, its resurgence had informed him of his identity.

Mamoru wasn't particularly religious, but he was well read on a variety of subjects, as well as open-minded. He had read and studied the Bible like he would any subject—as a student seeking knowledge, not as a fanatic who believed every word because they were supposed to. He remembered a passage from Corinthians in which gifts from the Holy Spirit were described: the gift of tongues, prophecy, miracles, and faith, among others. He remembered reading from a secondary source that the gift of faith meant that the recipient was literally unable to doubt God.

Mamoru recalled this particular study session because he now understood this gift of faith viscerally, yet for a slightly different situation. He suddenly had a slew of new memories, and he was unable to doubt their validity, or question if they had truly happened. As far-fetched as they were, he _knew_ that they were real. He could describe them in great detail right now if he wanted.

He felt something cold drop onto his cheek and forced his eyes open. The pain surged back with a vengeance. He was still slightly propped up, but was now staring into the watery eyes of the princess in his dreams turned reality: "Serenity," he said softly, recognizing her then and now.

And now he knew who he really, was, too: _Endymion_. _I am… Endymion._

He felt his consciousness slowly fading; could hear people around him talking, arguing, and fighting. Then, a new kind of darkness swallowed him in its jaws, and he felt his whole existence fade into nothingness.


	6. Vignette 6 - Vessel

Vignette 6: Vessel

 _Author's note: Occasionally, I have to leverage actual scenes and dialogue from the classic anime for chronological context. Some dialogue was taken from the Viz Media dub. I do not claim to be the writer of the dialogue from the classic anime._

Mamoru banged his fists on the glass-like enclosure of the dark chamber. "Let me out of here! Please!" He had already paced it at least 50 times, tracing its parameter. It seemed to go on forever if you stood in the center of it and looked out, but once you found the edges, it indeed had a dark, convex encasing. He could see nothing beyond the smooth encasing; he could only feel it. "Please! Let me out!" His fists slid down the enclosure, and then he pressed himself into the cavity that the wall created and lowered his head.

Suddenly, he noticed that he was wearing armor now—the very same armor that he wore in his previous life. "Where… am I?"

On the opposite side of the enclosure, the dark wall lit up with an image; an image of himself lying in a strange bed, with dark ribbons of energy cascading up his body. His tuxedo jacket, cape, mask, and hat had been removed. A woman he now recognized as Queen Beryl stood towering over him, smiling.

Mamoru jumped to his feet. "Stop!" he shouted at the image. "Stop whatever the hell you're doing to me!" He ran to the opposite side, now banging his fists there, as if they could hear him. The image began to fade.

He continued his futile routine; searching for an exit, an opening, _something_ , but always eventually coming up against the side of the parameter. When he tired of this, he just sat in silent contemplation. He couldn't detect the passage of time; after all, there was no day or night. He reached his left arm across himself to massage his right shoulder—but there was no blood, no pain. Every now and then, a new image would flash on a different side of the enclosure, like a giant projection on a movie screen and he would glance up.

In the next movie, he didn't see himself at all. It showed Sailor Moon fighting a monster. The camera movements were shaky. He heard his own voice echoing inside the chamber, egging the monster on. Instantly, he understood: the camera perspective was from his own eyes. He watched the devastation on Sailor Moon's face; watched how badly his betrayal hurt her. He shouted at the image, "No! Usagi! It's not me! I swear!"

Many more similar movies played after that one; sometimes he was addressing the sailor guardians. Other times, he was talking directly to Queen Beryl or Kunzite, a lord of the Dark Kingdom. When it was Kunzite, Mamoru shouted at the screen, "This isn't who you are, Kunzite!"

When he couldn't bear to watch another second of the pain he was causing the sailor guardians, in particular Usagi, he averted his eyes and began to pace. "Can I ever belong to myself? First, I had no choice but to commit the fancies of Tuxedo Mask. Now, I'm controlled by the whims of the Dark Kingdom." He clenched his fists and felt a hot tear streak down his cheek. "I'm nothing but a vessel to be filled by anyone!" He banged his fists on the floor. "I couldn't protect you… Yua… Mom… Dad… _Usagi_ … now I'm actively trying to hurt you instead of protect you…" He hung his head.

Then, the floor began to rumble. He startled. The enclosure began to vibrate and shrink. The blackness came toward him, and then it transformed into a sea of white, with a shimmering sun-lit surface, that engulfed him. The echo of the chamber and his voice were one as he shouted, "Refresh!"

He realized that he had escaped the enclosure. He could hear cars honking and rushing by and the wind of a cool Tokyo night rush through his hair. He heard a voice shout, "You did it! You brought the real Mamoru back." His body plummeted to the cold, dirty concrete.

 _Usagi…_ he thought. _I love you…_

But no sooner had he escaped, did he feel a dark bubble encircle him, and he was swallowed again.

He felt fire enter his body, his mind, his senses. It was an indescribable pain that went beyond the physical. He felt like his soul was being ripped apart. He was scared he would lose himself, as well as that hard-won sense of security and certainty in his identity that he had recently gained from the silver crystal. Why, when his life-long questions had finally been answered, did the satisfaction of their knowledge have to be ripped from him? Why _now_? _Couldn't you let me enjoy them for just a moment? A moment!_ he raged to God.

He was scared that he would lose this bubble of consciousness, too. This seemed to be the only thing he could hold onto. He felt as though he was encased in a metal suit, and that _every_ motion (down to the blinking of his eyes, the sharp inhalation of his nose, the twitching of his mouth) was dictated by remote control. This time, it felt like he was wearing virtual reality goggles and seeing the movie of his current reality play right before his eyes, rather than being projected on a screen before him.

He was kneeling, kissing Queen Beryl's hand, when he heard his true name. "Endymion, make yourself useful. Kill the princess."

The fire ordered him to rise to his knees, and he did. "As you wish," he responded dutifully. He saw through the goggles that he was hurling himself at Sailor Moon like a ninja, sword in hand, with the intent to strike her through the heart. She dove out of the way and aimed her own weapon at him. He felt a wave of little sparks hit him for at least a minute, but they didn't hurt. He jumped out of the wave and knocked her wand out of her hand. A black rose materialized in his hand and he threw it at her, commanding her to die. The rose morphed into thousands of thorny stems, all tangled around her body and sending electric shocks through her. She pleaded for him to stop, calling his name softly, but he didn't respond. _Couldn't_ respond.

When the shocks had wreaked their havoc, he swiftly kicked her across the room. His command was to kill her, and kill her, he would. He grabbed her by the throat and held her aloft, transferring the pain of the fire that controlled his body into hers. She was effectively being electrocuted. The fire curled the corners of his mouth into a smile.

Then, he heard Queen Beryl's voice say, "You can stop that now, Endymion. Cut off the princess's head. Now."

Mamoru mechanically grabbed his sword and raised it above his head, when he felt a hot disc threaten to cut him in half. Completely taken off guard, he felt his body collapse like an anchor into the ocean floor. Some small part of him whispered _How could she do that to me? How could she bear to fight me? She loves me… doesn't she?_

The robot pulled itself together; he must fufill his duty, no matter the cost, even when every atom inside of him screamed _Stop! Don't do this!_ The robot staggered to its feet, as if a gear had caught on a piece of fabric— a fabric called love. He gasped for air, hoisted himself up using the sword, and raised it once more. "Sailor Moon!" he cried. "Ahhhhhhhggghh! Die!"

" _STOP THIS NOW_!"

Her voice echoed inside his head and Mamoru and the fire were both quiet for a moment. For once, his body didn't feel mechanical. For once, he didn't feel like a pair of VR goggles was on his head. Mamoru opened his own eyes. And there, in her outstretched hands, was the star locket that he had implored her to keep when she tried to give it back to him just months before. He knew that it belonged to him, remembered the first time she had given it to him, so long ago. And now, she could give it to him again.

She told him to remember. And he did. He knew everything. She didn't have to try to convince him for very long. The fire said through his mouth, "Anyone who dares to defy the Dark Kingdom, must die!" But the melody of the star locket grew louder and louder, sending the commands of the fire into the background. Usagi never took her gaze from him. He saw a lack of fear in her eyes; she was unafraid of the death that would befall her if he didn't listen. Instead, he saw certainty: certainty that he would come back to her; certainty that he would accept her gift again, as he did so long ago.

And he did.

When he took the locket in his hands, the brilliant light of her love baptized him and he collapsed to his knees. The fire faded from his body. She held him again, just like she did the first time his memories came back. "Mamoru," she said. That was all she needed to say.

"Usagi. Thank you," he said.

They had never touched, never kissed, in this life. But they both shared memories of doing so. It was like it happened yesterday. _Finally_ , he thought, _Now that we know who we are…_ _Can we just pick up where we left off?_

Screaming, raging blared in his ears. He turned and saw a sharp purple shard, the width and length of a log, propel itself toward him. He grabbed a rose and flung it; it burst the shard into hundreds of pieces. He grabbed Usagi and shielded her from the rain of shrapnel. However, one shard took refuge in the recently healed wing of his right shoulder.

He fell onto his back, and she was there to catch him, like she always did and always would.

But he failed her. He knew he had failed her so many times already. He didn't want her to hang onto a loser like him. He bid her goodbye. "Leave now. Get out of here quickly. Go back to being an ordinary girl without any worries. Find yourself a really cool boyfriend." He felt the energy drain out of his body.

"Nobody's cooler than you, Mamoru," she replied.

He smiled at her, and they locked eyes as a different kind wave came upon him; not the darkness of unconsciousness or the black bubble of impending fire and manipulation, but a sweet light, where he felt whole and complete. He shielded his eyes from the light, and when it lessened, he saw her there, the Princess Serenity of his dreams. But this time, she didn't look sad or have that imploring look to her face. This time, she opened her arms wide and said, "Endymion! At last, you have come back."

Endymion wrapped his arms around her and put his mouth on hers. When they broke from the kiss, he cupped her face in his hands and said, "At last." He kissed her again, but this time, the kiss went on forever.


	7. Vignette 7 - Body and Soul

Vignette 7: Body and Soul

The vessel walked down the street, even more devoid than he had been before remembering his true past. He didn't even realize how blank he was, because he had nothing to compare this emptiness to.

But he remembered Bun Head—and he teased her again. Right where he left off. That part he did remember. And for the first time, women fought over him; the Bun Head and a girl named Ann. He couldn't seem to get away from them. He entered a play to pass the lonely hours, and of course he was the prince. Of course. Who else would he be?

But before long, he found himself around her again, inexplicably. Running into her as he went around corners. Every time he did, he felt like he was collecting puzzle pieces, fitting them together, but not really knowing why he was doing it. He dreamed of nothing at night and woke up feeling like something was missing, but not knowing what it was. The loneliness ate at him so, and in the solitude of his apartment one night, he covered his face with his hands. When he removed them, they were wet. He reflected on his thoughts. _I'm helpless,_ he couldn't help thinking. _Everything just happens_ to _me_.

He found himself protecting a sailor girl in a very strange circumstance involving a large moving tree that lived in the apartment of a supernatural couple. He didn't really understand any of it. He had befriended the couple in passing, but they looked different now. Their hair and skin had changed, making them inhuman. He heard the sailor girl talk of defending him with her life. When one member of the couple decided to blast her with fearsome energy, he found himself stepping in front of it, and then he blacked out.

When he woke up, literally and figuratively, the resurgence into greater awareness was less jarring than the first time he had to do it. It was like waking up from a short nap; he was refreshed and no longer felt like the zombie of one who is drowsy because they slept too long. His last memory of Usagi was of her holding him before he fell into the swift and overwhelming embrace of death. When he opened his eyes, it was as if they had never left that cold tower in the Arctic. Thankfully, it wasn't nearly as cold.

Shortly after that, things were finally peaceful, and Usagi and Mamoru started dating:

Mamoru practically buried his nose in the book on astrophysics, but he was so focused that he couldn't be bothered to go and find his glasses.

 _Brrrrrringggg…. Brrrrrringggg … Brrrrrringggg …_ There it was again. He sighed, but a small smile was on his face. He picked up the phone. "Usako," he said. "This is the third time you've called me today. I'm trying to study."

"Mamo-channnnn," she cooed. "I just wanted to see how you were doing!"

"Well, since we last talked… I'm more or less the same. Still really busy."

"Do you have any plans tonight?"

He glanced at the book. "I do have to study…" He heard Usagi make a whimpering noise on the other end of the line. "But… I could use a break. Shall we meet in Juuban park?"

"YES!" she cried. He winced and held the phone away from his ear, but his smile grew bigger. "See you in a minute!" The receiver clicked. Mamoru put the phone down. He sighed loudly and shut his book.

The moon had just risen over Tokyo. From a distance, he saw her sitting in a swing, her back to him, her skin practically glowing in the moonlight. "Hey," he said softly, placing a hand on her shoulder. She jumped off the swing and screamed "AHHHHH!"

"Relax!" he said. "It's just me. Don't be so jumpy."

"Sorry… I'm just—"

"Nervous?"

She batted her thick lashes at him. "Maybe a little…"

"Don't be. You know me well, don't you?"

They walked in silence for about five minutes, enjoying the cool night air, when Mamoru said, "Usako, will you come back to my apartment?"

Usagi's cheeks flushed red… even in the darkness he could tell. "I can't stay the night. My parents will freak out."

"I know. Just for a little while. I'll drive you back in an hour or so."

She nodded shyly. "Okay."

As his convertible roared to life, Usagi squealed with delight. "Your car… it's… so nice!"

He smirked. "I like it, too."

"And the seats… they're made… with… real leather. Oh, it's so nice. You're so fancy, Mamo-chan!"

Mamoru smiled wickedly. "Hang onto your buns!" And they sped off into the Tokyo night.

Mamoru flicked on the light switch. "Your place is amazing!" she gushed. Her wide eyes darted over everything.

"Sit on the couch. I'll make you a cup of tea."

"Okay…" she said. He smiled. She was so endearing and sweet. He wanted to strike up casual conversation, but… what would he say? _How is school? Are you doing your homework? How are your tests going?_ He didn't want to sound like her father or something. He pushed the worrisome thoughts away and put a kettle on the eye.

Usagi was quiet even before the kettle screeched. He poured the tea into cups, brought them over on a tray, and sat down next to her on the couch. For a few minutes, they both went back and forth unnaturally. Then, suddenly, her mouth was on his, and they began making out. After a few minutes of this, he asked gently, "Would you like to go to my bed?"

Usagi nodded and plopped down on his bed with a laugh (since his place was a studio, the bed was right across from the couch). Mamoru curled up next to her, and held her for a few moments instead of continuing to kiss her. She embraced this respectful gesture. They both acknowledged the sanctity of this moment; this was not only their first time alone and fully conscious since the battle with Queen Beryl, but also since their previous life together was bitterly cut short. Words were unnecessary.

After a few moments, Mamoru propped himself up with his hand and gazed at her. As if she had sensed this, Usagi opened her eyes to meet his gaze. He felt like he could stare into her eyes forever. Usagi apparently couldn't; she burst into fits of giggles, breaking the intense stare. After she calmed down, she asked, slowly, "Mamo-chan… do you remember… all the things we did together… before?"

He smiled. "Yes," he replied softly. He closed his eyes and rolled onto his back. "I remember them vividly," he said, his eyes still closed in reimagining, "…as if they happened in this life."

Usagi nuzzled up to him and put her head on his chest. "Me too," she said. "What was your favorite thing that we did together?"

They talked for half an hour about the time Endymion took Serenity horseback riding (she had never seen horses before and was quite shocked by them). They rode the horses to an abandoned beach at sunset and kissed until the stars came out. After reliving this memory, they talked about all of their secret meetings (in forests, in glades, in secret passageways), out of sight of anyone in their kingdoms. Everything had been so secretive. And now, in this life, it didn't have to be. (Well, except, maybe, to Usagi's parents.)

They reached a natural stopping point in their conversation. Usagi seemed to be waiting for something. Mamoru held his breath, and then said, "Well… I better take you home. I don't want you to get in trouble." Usagi visibly deflated. Mamoru tried to ignore it and stood up. As he walked toward the door, he felt her grab him from behind. "Wait," she breathed, pressing her face into his back. "I don't want to leave yet."

Mamoru smiled and turned around. He held Usagi's hands in his. "Usako," he said, "you know if you're late, you might not be able to see me again! You might get grounded."

"Please… Mamo-chan… can I stay just a little longer?" She was planted in front of him, swinging his arms back and forth. Mamoru stifled a chuckle at her childish begging. "Usakooooo," he said in a _don't do this to meeeee_ tone _…_ but he knew she wouldn't be able to interpret it. They swayed awkwardly for a moment as he glanced over his shoulder at the door, avoiding her penetrating gaze. Slowly, he brought their hands down, stopping the swinging. He felt himself blush; he thought Usagi might be blushing, too.

The moonlight streaming in through his apartment window blanketed them in silence. Oh, how he wished that he could just give in to her requests; that he didn't have to pretend like he didn't want to keep going. But he knew in his heart that she wasn't ready for much more than a few kisses, despite her insistence. She had no idea what she was asking for in that moment. How could she, at 14?

"Oh, Usako," he half sighed, half moaned, drawing her into him, allowing himself just one pleasure. He knew perhaps he was overpowering her in that moment; he could feel her trembling; could hear her breathing heavily. Her breath was so hot it made a mark on his shirt. She was so short and fragile, and her face was buried in his chest. He planted his nose into the top of her head, breathed in the magnificent scent of her hair, and wrapped his arms around her with the intensity of a boa constrictor surrounding its prey. How badly he wanted to consume all of her then, body and soul. He savored the blissful intoxication of his desire for her, knowing he would soon need to stop himself.

Snapping out of a trance, he abruptly forced himself to unwind his arms. He held her at arms' length. She looked positively stunned. Breaking up the awkward moment, Mamoru acted on the impulse to twirl her. Usagi giggled, and they both breathed more easily. "Come on," he said, heading toward the door, pulling her behind him. He glanced over his shoulder at her, a sparkle in his eye. Usagi's bewilderment melted into a smile that made her eyes disappear.

After she got out of his car to go inside her house, she poked her head through the car window. "Mamo-chan?" she began.

"Yes?"

"Can we go on a date soon?"

Mamoru laughed deeply. "Sure. The weather's getting nice. How about a boat ride on the lake?"

"A boat ride?!" she yelled excitedly, and then, realizing how late it was, instantly dropped to a whisper. "I can't wait!"

"I'll call you," Mamoru said, "unless you beat me to it. Goodnight, Usako."

Mamoru sped away.

That night, Mamoru let his own hand lead him into ecstasy. He loved her soul so much, but he was so afraid of loving her body then. "Usako," he whispered, imagining her wrapped around him in the (hopefully) not too distant future.


End file.
